Omnia Causa Fiunt
by Laevateinn102
Summary: She'd been taught everything she needed to know by the Institute – and yet when it came down to it she'd actually learnt very little. There was one rule that she had to follow: never reveal your powers. But when she is moved into an unassuming cul-de-sac to start a new life, little Gamma soon realises that things are not at all what they appear to be. [AU-ish, contains violence]
1. 000

Omnia Causa Fiunt

An Ed, Edd n' Eddy Fanfic

By Laevateinn102

000

The canine lay sprawled out on the clammy grass, cradled by the roots of the tree he'd collapsed against the previous night. By then the day had come and gone, and the sky had reverted back into the indigo creature whose pelt was flecked with stars. His right ear pricked up and swivelled, rotating like a satellite dish, just picking up the faint, rolling chime of running water in the distance. The wolf licked his long muzzle with a red, glistening tongue, coating his black fur with thin strands of saliva. His throat was incredibly raspy, and this sensation was what forced him to stand.

The wolf stumbled at first, his legs lurching with awkward, jerky movements, with only the sound of a nearby stream guiding his steps. He eventually gathered momentum when the sweet scent of fresh water struck his nostrils, his tail swatting the air as it swayed left and right. His efforts were soon rewarded – the surface of the stream emerged into his line of sight through the trees, bathed with light from the waxing moon. The wolf lowered his head, his nose huffing up the cool air greedily, and he was soon lapping up gulps of water as fast as he could. His face was drenched with liquid, turning his once sleek coat into a soggy mess, but his large, sharp eyes were too focussed on his drink to care.

With his thirst now quenched, another unpleasant sensation gripped the wolf's body: the grumbling murmurs of hunger. He recalled how rough the previous night had been – he'd travelled a long way, but was unsure of what had driven him so far in the first place. He could remember something big… something tall and cold. It was thin and lithe, but great in number, with hole-like patterns that were wide enough to show him the outside world, yet not be able to touch it. He could also remember looking up at this strange set of patterns before scraping his claws at the earth, digging towards whatever awaited him on the other side. The sharp, blaring noises from the air still rang out in his mind's ears, raising the fur on the back of his neck. He had no idea what animal was capable of such cries, but he did know that it meant things – bad things – and he was glad to be far, far away from it.

Rustling. Movement. The wolf's ears snapped to attention. He raised his haunches, claws digging into the earth. More alien noises were coming from across the stream, but that didn't really matter. The wolf would have no problem sussing out wherever this creature was hiding. He drew back his lips into a snarl, exposing his yellowy fangs, and drew back his head, his vocal chords humming into a bone-chilling howl. Then he slunk into the bushes, eager and ready to start his hunt.

 **(A/N: Well hello there! Glad to see you made it this far (no, seriously, why are you reading this terrible fanfic when you could be reading something better, like the** _ **Twilight**_ **saga). This was actually a story I wrote when I was about 16, but never had the guts to finish it, so I thought I'd give it another try! I hope you like what you see here, and feel free to leave reviews and critiques – I don't bite, I promise!)**


	2. 001

001

The droning hum of the halogen lamps stirred Gamma, her sight tinted orange by the bright light filtering through her eyelids. Her lungs heaved, pushing her chest inwards and outwards in a slow, rhythmic fashion, greedily sucking in the oxygen around her. Her thick eyebrows tensed as she tasted the rushing air on her tongue – cold, sterile, bland – it almost made her throat press against her voice box and force her to cough. This same air bit down on her pale skin and caused the hairs to rise, covering her exposed limbs in goose bumps and touching her hands with numbness.

Then came the grogginess – it hit Gamma with the force and scale of a tow truck. At first she felt incredibly heavy and all she could manage to do was utter a drawn-out moan. Her mind was completely blank – no thoughts, no memories, nothing – but after a while her eyelids began flickering of their own accord. A moist sensation dotted her tear ducts as her black irises were exposed to the halogen lamps, pupils shrinking as they adjusted to the intensity of the light. Her arms felt numb, her flesh had broken out in blotches and the only thing she could do was tuck them underneath her armpits to prevent them from getting any colder.

Now that she was awake, Gamma finally had a chance to survey her surroundings. It became fairly obvious why the light had felt so intense: the walls had been painted a stagnant shade of white, while the floor was a pale aquamarine colour. She then looked down to see that her body had been placed on what appeared to be a large hospital bed, alongside a sheet covering most of the lower half of her slightly plump body. Gamma groaned and rubbed her eyes, nudging the strands of messy, passionate red hair from her fringe as a surge of questions flushed her mind. Where was she? Why was she here? And why did her back feel so, so itchy?

Up until that point, Gamma had been too sleepy to notice the irritating sensations near the top of her shoulders. But now the feeling was in full force, striking her sweat-ridden skin, and she could deny it no longer. She reached with a shaky hand over her shoulders to relieve her back, expecting to meet the warm edges of her sticky shoulder blades.

She almost gasped when a strange, soft texture graced her fingertips.

Gamma pulled her arm away, her breaths shuddering, and felt her lips start to move of their own accord. Somewhere from deep inside her throat a sound began to crawl, passing up her windpipe and forming three terrified words: 'What the hell?'

There was a slight croak in her voice as it rose in pitch, and speaking made her vocal chords feel raw. She blurted out a cough and reached back over her shoulders to see if what she had felt was actually real or not. The same fluffy texture still clung to her back, but something wasn't right. At first Gamma assumed that what she'd touched was either really soft hair or fur, but she suddenly realised that both hair and fur were far too coarse to be as dainty as whatever was on her back. She pressed down with her palm, her hand sinking into the light texture, and grabbed, clenching her teeth as she plucked a strand and brought it into her line of vision.

What Gamma now held in her clammy fingers was anything but hair. Poking at least three inches above her thumb was a sleek, sandstone-coloured feather, the fronds ruffled by the movement of her hand. What little colour there was in Gamma's face faded – leaving her cheeks pallid and the shadows underneath her widening eyes more blatant than they already were. She placed her free hand over her mouth and supressed a watery moan. She was dreaming – she _had_ to be dreaming – there was no other way to explain the plumage sticking out from her back. She reached down and flinched as she pinched her hip, half hoping to regain consciousness and wake up, but the feather was still clenched in her hands, as real as real could be.

Several croaks seeped from Gamma's mouth as she drew her knees to her chest, dropping the feather in the process. She barely noticed the teal hospital gown censoring her front – her stomach was too tightly knotted for her to think about anything else. _This isn't happening,_ she thought. _This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't –_

A creaking noise caught Gamma's attention. Her head snapped upwards as she saw the plain door to her room inch open. There was a circular window at the top, and Gamma could just make out the figure of someone on the other side. She shrank back when she saw the door swerve even further; exposing her fragile state to whomever was entering her personal space. She buried her head into the tips of her kneecaps and sobbed under her breath. There was a pause, clouding Gamma's ears with heavy silence, and then a voice, soft-spoken and deep, said: 'Don't be scared – I'm not here to hurt you.'

Gamma didn't respond – she stayed in the foetal position, unable to stop the flow of tears now running down her face.

'I suppose you want some privacy,' the voice continued, calmer than a flowing stream. 'I'll close the door for you.'

Gathering what little courage remained; Gamma stole a peek through her arms at her visitor. She caught sight of a broad man in what appeared to be a charcoal-black business suit closing the door. Short, strawberry-blonde hair covered his head in the fashion of a buzz-cut and he looked incredibly formal. She hid her gaze once more when she saw him start to turn around.

'There,' he said in that soft-spoken voice from before. 'Now nobody can see you.'

Gamma heard the man's footfalls striding in her direction and gritted her teeth, not daring to make a move.

'I'm sure you're very frightened,' the man said gently. 'But I just need you to listen to me for just a minute, okay?' there was a scraping sound – possibly from the man getting a chair from somewhere in the room. 'I see that you've discovered the feathers on your back.'

At the mention of the plumage Gamma finally let her arms shift from her face a little. She could now see that the man was wearing a lilac-coloured office shirt under the coat. He was sitting in a restrained position with his large hands on his legs. She felt her mouth twitch, then she forced herself to speak. 'Where… am… I?' she asked, half sobbing. 'What's… happened… to me?'

'It's complicated,' the man said. 'I assure you – you will get your answers– but you need to calm down first.'

Gamma moved her arms away and let her knees slide downwards, suddenly finding herself staring into the face of her guest. She'd expected him to have aquiline features to match his buzz-cut; instead, she found that his head was more circular. She could see herself reflected in his baby-blue eyes, and she almost shuddered when she saw the misshapen fronds of feathers protruding from her back. She gulped and then spoke again, this time with more strength. 'Who are you?'

The man leaned in, clasping his fingers together in an arch. 'My name is Damien Scott,' he said. 'I've been assigned to you as your helper.'

Gamma titled her head. 'Helper?'

Damien nodded. 'I know you'll find this confusing, but I've actually been preparing for when you woke up for quite some time,' he said. 'I mean, I don't know how long you were asleep for, but I know this is the first time you've actually regained consciousness.'

Gamma shook her head. 'I don't understand.'

Damien's mouth twisted into a frown. 'Do you have any idea about who you are?'

Gamma paused. He brought up a very good point – who was she, anyway? She knew her name (though why anybody would call her something like "Gamma" in the first place was anybody's guess), but other than that, her mind was as blank as a piece of paper. 'N-No,' she said weakly.

'Mhm,' Damien mused, pushing his lower lip outwards slightly. 'Well, what I can tell you is that you've been here for quite a while.'

Gamma's blood ran cold. 'What?'

'As I said before: I've been preparing for this moment for quite some time,' Damien's eyelids fluttered as he spoke. 'We found you about two months ago – alongside others – in suspended animation.'

Gamma's eyes widened. She'd been out for _two months_?! She took shuddering breaths, rolling the revelation over and over in her mind.

'The man we rescued you from was the person who gave you those wings,' Damien continued. 'And lord knows what else he could've added had we not intervened.'

By now Gamma was clutching her head in her hands. At least she had the answer to why her back was covered in feathers now, but _wings_? Somehow, despite touching them herself, Gamma couldn't quite swallow the idea that it was possible for a human to have such a strange feature. She looked up at Damien in the same way a child would when it wanted something really, really badly. 'Can…. Can I see them?'

Damien reached down out of Gamma's line of sight and pulled up a clipboard. 'Ah, well, I thought you might say that,' he said. 'And while I can't exactly let you see them here, I did bring a photo of the species which you've been spliced with.'

He took a sheet of paper from the clipboard and handed it to her, being careful not to crease it in any way, shape or form. What had been printed on the paper was a picture of a large bird with a long neck and a hooked beak. It was staring at the camera sideways and most of the body was adorned with sandstone-coloured feathers. The only parts of the wings that weren't this colour were the feathers used for maintaining altitude – these were jet black, and blended in well with the rest of the bird's plumage. Gamma stared at the bird, taking in every single detail she could manage before saying, 'This is a vulture.'

'Indeed,' Damien set the clipboard down again. 'We're still trying to figure out if the wings can be removed or not,' he said. 'But tests should move much quicker now that you've finally woken up.'

But Gamma wasn't completely satisfied yet. 'You still didn't answer my other question.'

'Oh?'

'This place,' Gamma said. She leaned in intently.'Where am I?'

Damien twiddled his thumbs together for a moment. 'This is a place known as the Red Dove Institute,' he began. 'We were set up to help people like you – sort of like a rehabilitation clinic, really.' He said. 'The institute itself has been around for decades, and allows us to give these people a chance to have – or return to – completely normal lives.'

Gamma placed an index finger under her chin. 'I see.'

'So yeah, that's pretty much it,' Damien said. 'We're hoping to get you to the point where you can move into society at some point,' he rubbed the back of his neck. 'Though I'm not quite sure when that'll be – it'll depend on how much you can cope with.'

Gamma's shoulders relaxed slightly. 'Thank you,' she said. 'I guess I've got a lot to take in.'

'Yeah,' Damien got up, pushing the chair back with his legs. 'I'm just glad you listened – you've taken it a lot better than most of the others I've met over the years,' he flung her a glance as he turned to make his exit. 'Can I get you anything while I'm gone?'

'Anything?' a rumbling growl radiated from Gamma's stomach and she felt her tongue moisten. 'Well, I wouldn't mind something to eat, I guess.'

'Right,' Damien said as he reached for the door. 'I'll be right back with something to keep the wolf from the door ASAP, then.'

And with that, Damien Scott made his temporary exit.

Alone again, the itchy feeling on Gamma's back returned, but this time she decided to ignore it. Instead she turned her attention back to the picture of the vulture. She then picked up the feather she'd plucked from her back earlier and placed it against the paper, noting how similar they looked to each other.


	3. 002

002

Any tourist passing through the state of West Virginia usually kept to the highways, always keeping their eyes on the big cities and major destinations and such. But had they decided to deviate for just a moment, they would've come across a small, suburban town in the middle of nowhere. The pale-orange billboard welcoming people to this little town proudly proclaimed that Peach Creek "was the most peaceful place in West Virginia". But those who lived near the cul-de-sac of Rethink Avenue, without a doubt, begged to differ. At first glance one would've assumed that the noise from the machinery being used to construct the second cul-de-sac next door. Those people couldn't have been further from the truth if they tried.

Having decided to take advantage of the unusually warm heat, one of the culprits of chaos had been lured out to his front garden. He wasn't a very big child – in fact he was rather small when compared to his peers. The gleam of the sun was caught in the silver retainer keeping his teeth in order, and in doing so made his fragile figure appear much weaker than it already was. He wiped his brow with the back of his arm – he hated the light sensation it had on his forehead, and had to keep the sleeves of his aquamarine jumper rolled up to stop himself from overheating.

Sitting crossed-legged on a vibrant pink blanket, this boy was squeezing the most out of the last days of summer. The blanket was more of a necessity than anything else, though. Any chance to spare his white jeans from being marred by grass stains (something, of which, were a nightmare to remove from the fabric) was more than welcome in his eyes. He wasn't alone in this endeavour either –several stuffed animals were lined up in front of him, all of which had empty teacups in front of them, as silent as statues. Their shadows lengthened with every passing minute, acting as a stern reminder that time was of the essence. And one thing that young Jimmy knew very well was that a good tea party was _never_ rushed.

Jimmy, despite having grown out of most make-believe games, still had a guilty soft spot for tea-parties – and thankfully he looked youthful enough to not have to hide it just yet. His blonde cowlick hairstyle was perfect for the image of someone who was as tender as he, and his skin being as pale as it was only emphasized his delicate demeanour. As a result, most of the other kids in the cul-de-sac had learnt to be gentle with him. But even little Jimmy had to be wary – he was still a target, and he watched the road with shifty, sapphire-blue eyes before taking a sip from his imaginary tea. 'Are you enjoying your drinks?' he asked in a slightly high-pitched voice. 'Do any of you need refills?'

The dolls, as one would expect, remained quiet.

Jimmy reached for a large, ceramic teapot set beside his cup. 'Of course, Mr Yum-Yum!' he said, tipping the spout into a cup in front of a purple and orange dog plushie. 'Here you go, just say if you want any more.'

He didn't get chance to offer the same gesture to the others – for he suddenly became aware of someone towering above him with the height of a giant. In truth, this titan was merely an extremely tall teenager wearing an olive-green jacket over a red and white polo shirt, but the lowering sun only emphasized his height. He had one yellow hand in his denim trouser pockets; the other was holding a tiny scrap of paper with something written on it. Jimmy looked up at the boy, fumbling with his hands. 'Uh… hello Ed,' he squeaked. 'What're you doing here?'

'Um…' Ed began in a dopey voice. He furrowed his thick uni-brow and scratched his short, black hair, biting his tongue as he focussed on the paper. 'Hello there… uh… are you… oh, what does this say?' he swerved his head to the fence behind him with black irises, pointing to the paper. 'Eddy, what does this word mean?'

Knowing that Ed was distracted Jimmy decided that now would be a very good time to make his escape. He hurriedly gathered his belongings together and tiptoed back into his house, slamming the door behind him.

Meanwhile, having received no response from his cohorts, Ed turned to suddenly find that Jimmy had disappeared. 'Oh, no!' he gasped. 'The front lawn ate Jimmy!' he dropped the scrap of paper and started running around in circles, forgetting the reason why he'd come to see Jimmy in the first place. He ran around several times, spouting words like: "evil", "bad" and (his personal favourite), "gravy". He was so deep in a frenzied panic that he never noticed the three long hairs rising from behind the fence, followed by a very red and angry face.

'Ed!' the owner of the fuming face bellowed. 'That's the third time you've driven a pigeon away today!'

Ed turned to his furious leader and smiled. 'Workin' on it, Eddy!'

Eddy slapped his square forehead and gritted his large teeth. The heat was starting to make him sweat, staining the underarms of his yellow shirt. 'What are we gonna do with you, monobrow?' he groaned. 'Are we gonna have to shorten the script even more –' he was cut off when the person acting as his perch suddenly collapsed, sending Eddy tumbling to the ground with a soft thud. The moody boy struggled to his feet, dusting his light-blue trousers off. 'Oh, great goin', Sock-Head,' he barked. 'Could you at least wait until I've got my feet on the dirt before collapsin'?'

His mount, another boy roughly about his age, lay sprawled out across the grass, mumbling to himself. 'Well, excuse me, Eddy,' the boy muttered. He pressed his back against the fence, ruffling his orange shirt and purple shorts with every movement. The boy glanced up at the ski hat covering most of his head with silver eyes, scratching the short black hair that ended just behind his ears. The three large strands of hairs that poked out from behind his headwear were flattened as he supported his head against the boards. 'I suppose it's my fault that you decided to try and teach Ed to learn _your_ convoluted script?' he said while adjusting his torn, red, knee-high socks.

Eddy shot a fierce glare at the boy. 'You should've known Jimmy would escape, Double-D,' he said. 'Besides – I'm not in the mood for any more of this yim-yam!' he then walked over to the pavement. 'Hey, Lumpy,' he barked. 'Get movin'! We're burnin' daylight here!'

But Ed remained completely still, his attention drawn elsewhere. Eddy was about to shout even louder but halted his jaw when he noticed a white van parked outside one of the houses. The vehicle was at least two times bigger than any car used for common travel, and judging from the way the house looked now, Eddy guessed that it belonged to a renovating crew. He remembered this place all too well – the last time he'd seen this house it was run down and abandoned, left to rot and at the mercy of the weather. Most of the other kids had woven many a tale about it, from the third floor being haunted by ghosts to the owner of the house luring children inside with her enchanted singing voice. Haunted or not, the house looked much better now, with cream coloured walls and a roof made of scarlet tiles. 'My goodness,' Double-D said. 'It seems that someone's finally moving into that old house, how wonderful!'

Ed began jumping up and down. 'A new kid!' he said and started counting his fingers. 'First I'm gonna show him my comic books, then I'll introduce him to Sheldon Jr. and then I'll –'

Double-D placed a hand on Ed's shoulder. 'Ed, we don't even know if the new neighbours have any children yet,' he said softly. 'We'll have to wait and see when they arrive.'

Eddy rubbed his hands together, grinning deviously. 'More people mean more pigeons ripe for the taking!' he said. 'C'mon, boys, let's go search for more suckers!'

He raced off into the distance, leaving Ed and Double-D trailing behind. 'Oh, he never slows down for us!' Double-D muttered. 'Wait for us, Eddy!'

So the boys left the van in its solemn, stationary position with more important things on their minds. While the vehicle would stay still until nightfall, when the workers had finished preparing the house for its new residents.

. . .

'You might want to gather your things together,' Damien suddenly said, breaking the silence that clouded the car. 'We're almost there.'

Gamma, who had been staring out the windows for most of the journey, replied with a grunt. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, noting the large shadows under her eyelids. For someone who'd been excitedly waiting a whole year to get out into the world, she certainly didn't feel as jovial as she'd expected. Part of her thought that it had been the long car trip. And while the car itself was fairly comfortable, sitting in it for over seven hours was certainly a real mood killer. She reached down to gather up the wrappers of the meal the two of them had had for dinner, her grey vest clinging to her chest.

Damien glanced at her, tilting the steering wheel. 'And remember – just because we're arriving in the dead of the night doesn't mean you can take your braces off in the middle of the street, okay?'

Gamma rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, Damien, I know – you've told me a hundred times already.'

'Moving into society is no laughing matter,' Damien continued. 'I just want to make sure you understand what we're doing.'

Gamma didn't respond, she felt the leather belts nip against the skin of her torso and pulled at them underneath her vest. The pressure built against her back, causing her to stop. The last thing she wanted was to ruin her wings – even if she'd never get the chance to use them to fly. Being told the news by the scientists of the Institute had broken her heart: that removing the wings without severely crippling her body was nigh impossible. She hadn't even developed the muscles needed to use them – even if her bones were light enough to support the ability to fly. But hey, it wasn't all bad news – at the very least she was finally able to see the surroundings that had been shrouded in mystery for so long. She slid her hands into the pockets of her blue jeans and watched the houses and neighbourhoods soar by, the mellow light from the streetlamps splashing her face. She yawned again, this time much louder. 'I'm so damn tired.'

Damien nodded. 'Me too, kid.' They drove in silence for about ten more minutes before Damien looked up at one of the street signs. 'Aha!' he said. 'Here we are – Rethink Avenue!'

Gamma snapped to attention and sat up properly. 'Why is the road one huge circle?'

Damien backed the car into their new driveway. 'It's because this place is a cul-de-sac.'

'A _what_?'

'It's a word used to describe a road that has only one entrance and exit,' Damien explained as he undid his seatbelt. 'You can usually find houses at the end of the road, too.'

Cool, fresh air grazed Gamma's face when she got out of the car. The sky was a heavy, dark shade of blue, the moon was a semicircle of white light and it was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Damien had been right to warn her about her braces – at least one rectangle window remained lit, and while it wasn't too close, she didn't want to take any chances. She scratched at her vest once more, the houses around her looming in like a pack of dogs.

'Gamma, could you help me with the luggage?' Damien asked. He was dragging two small suitcases from the backseats of the car up the stairs to their new home. 'I need to find the keys.'

'Sure.' Gamma said. She came up to Damien's side and took her suitcase while he opened the door.

What greeted Gamma was a large hallway with cream walls and a scarlet carpet. She flinched when Damien stepped in, switching the lights on and intensifying the colours. 'Welcome to your new home,' he said to her. 'Don't worry about unpacking just yet – I think we both need a good night's rest before settling in.'

'Yeah,' Gamma murmured, setting her suitcase down near the flight of stairs. 'I'm gonna go get some sleep.'

'Okay, then,' Damien called from the kitchen. 'Goodnight!'

The room Gamma assumed to be hers was of decent size, and sported a writing desk that was severely lacking in supplies as well as a large bed big enough for two people. She went over to the window, pulling the sandstone-coloured curtains together and threw her shoes across the purple carpet when she took them off. Then she fumbled with the leather braces, fiddling with the buckles one by one until they fell to the floor with a thump. Her wings followed, tumbling out from underneath her vest helplessly and Gamma let out a sigh of relief.

The wings had curved outwards, running across the carpet like a tawny rug, and were about thirteen feet in length. The membranes within her shoulder blades connecting the wings twitched in an attempt to lift them – but alas, their efforts were in vain. Gamma bit her tongue when she realised that she'd have to get Damien to help her fold her wings back against her spine to put the retainers on again – but that could wait until morning. She fell onto the white duvet, one wing sprawled out on the floor, the other curled, wrapping clumsily around the space between the peach walls and the mattress. And soon enough, she was fast asleep, not caring for the long trip to Peach Creek and unable to realise that a new chapter in her life was about to begin.


	4. 003

003

Jimmy had difficulty plucking the last daisy for his bouquet – mostly due to it having a stem and roots thicker than a strand of rope. He wasn't the most athletic of people, but he could gather up the power necessary when he needed it, and strength he definitely had. He tugged at the flower once, then twice, and finally the plant was freed from the dirt. He grinned, taking a pair of scissors and snipping the tendril-like roots from the stem. 'Sarah's gonna love you,' he said, arranging his handful of daises into a much neater bunch. He then surveyed his garden. 'Now, do I have everything I need?'

At that moment the glass doors slid open, and out stepped a young girl roughly about Jimmy's age. She waved to Jimmy, her pink tank top and pale blue trousers neat and well kept. 'Hi Jimmy!' she called, a gentle breeze toying with her neck-length ginger hair.

Jimmy waved back, his face beaming. 'Hello Sarah!' he called and offered Sarah the bouquet when she approached him. 'Look – I picked these just for you!'

Sarah took the flowers with glee. 'Oh Jimmy,' she said, bringing them up to her nose to take in their scent. 'They're wonderful!' she sat down beside him. 'So, what do you wanna play today?'

'Well,' Jimmy began, fidgeting with his fingers. 'I thought we could make some cookies together, if you want.'

Sarah nodded. 'That sounds good,' she said. 'By the way – how is your retainer? Has my stupid brother damaged it beyond repair again?'

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. 'No,' he mumbled. 'But I'm not going to be in school at some point next week,' he lowered his head. 'It's to get a new retainer – a stronger one, I mean – so that the Eds won't be able to break it so easily.'

Sarah rolled her eyes. 'They never learn, do they?' she said. 'You'd think they would've gotten it in their thick skulls that their scams don't work by now.'

'Yeah,' Jimmy said. He got to his feet and took Sarah's hand. 'Come on – I'll get the Easy Oven ready for the cookies!'

At that moment the two were drawn away from the thoughts of making delicious treats. For a loud noise suddenly cut through the sky, coming from the other side of Jimmy's back yard. 'Schla-horg!' a voice cried, followed by a loud crash.

Jimmy twitched nervously. 'What was that?'

Sarah turned to the fence as another 'Schla-horg!' rose up.

'There's only one person I know who makes noises like that,' she said and led Jimmy over to the source of the noise. 'Let's see what he's up to this time.'

Climbing up the fence wasn't too much of an endeavour; the two had done it many times before, after all. It was using the top of the boards as a seat which was the more tricky part. Jimmy teetered a bit as he sat down next to Sarah, looking down at the fiasco going on in the lanes – and what a fiasco it was. There, with a pitchfork in one hand and a pinkish beet in the other, was a tall young adolescent with olive-coloured skin and blue hair. He looked like the sort of person one would find working on a farm, for the majority of his trousers were covered in mud. There were also tiny flecks of dirt on his yellow shirt, as well as the soles of his red and white shoes, and the heavy bags underneath his brown eyes were blatant. He offered the two kids a warm smile upon noticing their presences, raising the uni-brow on his forehead. 'Ah, hello there, Boy Jimmy and She-Who-Gives-Migraines!' he said, voice thick with a Romanian accent. 'Fine weather today, yes?'

Sarah went straight for the jugular. 'Rolf, what are you doing?' she asked. 'Has Ed stolen some of your chickens or something?'

Rolf rolled his eyes. 'Do you have potatoes in your ears?' he set the pitchfork against the earth. 'Surely you heard the cry of the _varg_ last evening, no?'

Sarah scratched her head. 'Rolf, you've lost me.'

Rolf raised his shoulders gruffly. 'Rolf believes you call this creature a "wolf" in your lickity-split tongue,' he said, clenching his fingers around the beet and gritting his jaw. 'The scourge of Rolf's flock has once again come to haunt this Son of a Shepherd,' he raised the pitchfork. 'But have no fear! Rolf shall seek out this silver-haired vermin and shall slay it before it terrorizes us all!'

Jimmy began to sweat, lacing the back of his neck with moisture. 'Is that true, Sarah? Wolves are so scary!'

'Of course not, Jimmy,' Sarah said, touching Jimmy's shoulders. 'Rolf probably just heard a stray dog barking in the streets, that's all!'

'I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you two!'

All three of the kids snapped to attention to find that a newcomer had entered the lanes. He was an average sized boy that looked just a bit older than Sarah with the majority of his head shaven, save for several strands of black, spiky hair. He was carrying a board of wood roughly the size of a grown man's forearm in his right hand, pressing the sleeve of his white shirt against his tan skin, and upon this wooden board were two eyes and a mouth drawn in crayon. He surveyed the group with large green eyes and stepped forward, his flip-flops slapping against the earth.

Rolf was the first to say anything. 'Hello Jonny-the-Wood-Boy,' he said. 'Can't keep your earlobes to yourself, Rolf sees.'

Jonny tapped the front of the wooden board. 'Plank's the one who was eavesdropping!' he said. 'He says you were talking about a wolf, right?'

'Oh come on, Jonny!' Sarah said. 'You're seriously saying that you _believe_ Rolf?'

Jonny nodded. 'Plank and I heard it yesterday,' he replied. 'There we were, just mindin' our own business tryin' to get some sleep when we heard a howl from somewhere outside,' Jonny stood firm, grabbing Plank with both hands and holding him out in front of Sarah. 'Plank and I know when we hear a dog – and that was certainly not the sort of noise a dog makes!'

'Jonny-the-Wood-Boy,' Rolf said. 'Do you have any idea of where you heard this scourge of the night?'

Jonny looked at Plank, then back to Rolf. 'Plank says that it probably came from the woods,' he replied, clutching Plank tightly in his fingers. 'Just beyond the lane – the trees were always thick over there anyways.'

Rolf nodded. 'Ah, yes,' he said. 'The woods would be a perfect place for any varg to hide,' he patted Jonny on the back. 'The hunk of wood knows much like Rolf's Great-Nano,' he said. 'Rolf did not think to scour those areas – truly the varg is much smarter than Rolf first thought.'

Jimmy began to tremble. 'Wolves? In the cul-de-sac?' the colour in his face drained away. 'Oh gosh – I won't be able to go outside at night ever again!'

Sarah glanced at Jimmy and scowled. 'Now look what you've done – you've scared Jimmy!' she took his shaking hand and glared at the boys. 'Come on, Jimmy,' she said. 'Let's leave these idiots and go bake those cookies we talked about.'

They both jumped back over the fence, leaving Rolf, Jonny and Plank on their own.

'So,' Rolf said, leaning on the pitchfork. 'What you tell Rolf is true, correct?'

Jonny smiled. 'You bet!'

Rolf grinned. 'Rolf knows that there is power in numbers,' he said. 'Come, join Rolf and we shall put an end to this varg's reign of terror!'

Jonny tilted his head for a second. 'Well, I don't know how to stop a wolf, but it sounds fun to me!' he said, drawing Plank close. 'Count me and Plank in!'

Rolf's grin grew wider. 'Good,' he said, pointing to the west. 'We will start at Rolf's dwelling,' he began. 'Rolf has supplies for problems like this – vargs are sly creatures, so we must prepare if we are to hunt it down so Rolf can mount its head to his walls!' He walked past Jonny with the stride of a man well-versed in the ways of war. 'Follow Rolf, Jonny-the-Wood-Boy, we have much to do!'

Jonny giggled, looking at Plank. 'This is gonna be awesome, Plank,' he whispered and trailed behind Rolf with a spring in his step. 'Wait for us, Rolf!' he called. 'You move quicker than a jackrabbit on a hot tin roof!'

. . .

Gamma winced as her hand struck the wooden table. The impact itself didn't hurt, but the sting that lingered on the tip of her thumb was more than enough to make her grit her teeth. She examined the flesh and took note of the small shard of wood protruding from the skin. 'Of course.' she muttered and squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled the splinter from her thumb.

At that moment the sliding glass door to the kitchen shifted and Damien stepped out onto the hot, sandstone slabs that made up the patio. There was a clipboard underneath his left arm and a pen in his right hand. 'Wow, what fine weather!' he said, sliding down into the lawn chair in front of Gamma. 'Hardly any sign of autumn to be seen!'

Gamma rubbed her wounded thumb. 'Yeah.'

Damien began scribbling on the clipboard wordlessly, creating sloppy tapping noises with the nib of the pen. It was all Gamma could hear for a while, save for the occasional song of birds in the trees. She kept her gaze towards the sky, then slowly shifted so that she could just see the tops of other houses in front of the garden.

'So,' she began, her voice shaky. 'When will I be able to go out onto the streets?'

Damien set the pen and clipboard down and cupped his fingers together. 'Are you sure you're ready for that?'

'Well,' Gamma drummed the table with her lithe fingers. 'You guys have been preparing me for this, so I guess it would be worth a try, right?'

'Bear in mind that we still have to sort out school supplies,' Damien said, biting the tip of his pen. 'And these people won't be the same as the ones we used to train you, Gamma. Conversations aren't as simple as the institute would have you believe.'

Gamma's mouth twitched. 'I think I'm ready,' she said, leaning forward intently. 'Come on Damien – surely you could at least let me have the curtains open in my room, or something?'

Damien lowered his gaze. 'Give me a while to think about it,' he eventually said after a minute of silence. 'Just stay in the house for a little bit longer, okay?'

Gamma's lips started to curve into a frown. 'Okay then.' she said, straining her emotions so that they wouldn't seep through her voice.

'Good.' Damien offered her a tiny smile and went back to scribbling notes on his clipboard.

Gamma kept her eyes locked on the black tree trunks beyond the garden fence. Somewhere in the distance she heard the faint whistle of birdsong and the subtle hiss of a fresh, soft breeze. She glanced back to Damien and furrowed her brow, her mind ticking away quietly.


	5. 004

004

Double-D knew what most domesticated dogs sounded like, depending on their breed of course. He knew at least one of his neighbours owned a canine (though he'd only crossed paths with it once – and the less said about how it had completely ruined one of his socks, the better). But the sharp, deep howl that provoked his slumber the night before school started was certainly _not_ a dog. He jerked forward from underneath his ruffled duvet, chest heaving, wide-eyed and trembling. Nothing but darkness met his eyes and it took a moment before he was able to see what was meticulously organised around his room.

'Oh my,' he mumbled, placing a hand on his nightcap. 'What on _earth_ was that?!'

Another hair-raising cry answered his question.

Double-D's common sense tugged at the back of his head. _Don't even think about it,_ it begged. _Just lie down, roll over and go back to sleep, it's not worth your time!_

He sighed. The last thing his parents needed was a wild animal lurking around their yard, and if he could scare it away before it hurt anybody, then it would bring nothing but good, right? He shifted his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet, making sure to put on his ski-hat and a robe before hurriedly heading downstairs. The creature outside howled again, halting Double-D as he approached the screen door in the kitchen. He reached for the cupboards beside the sink and pulled out a yellow torch, the muscles in his hands tensing as he prepared to head outside.

He opened the door a crack, his sweaty palms barely keeping a hold on the doorknob and stole a peek into the inky blackness of the night. Nothing but the wooden porch met his weary eyes, his shadow marring the beams and tapering up the supports like a frightened cat. A sharp gust of autumnal air smacked his cheeks as he pushed the door outwards, his feet shuffling onto the chilled porch. Not a single sound met his ears, causing his heart to lodge itself into the middle of his throat.

He began to tremble as he tiptoed into the darkness, clutching his arms together as he surveyed the garden, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The only thing that really looked out of place was the white garden chair propped up against the tree, and that was because his father had placed it there to remind him to give it a fresh coat of paint the next morning. Double-D stepped out further, feeling his feet press against the wooden steps, wincing as they whined under his weight. The silence weighed down on his shoulders and he felt his heart tugging to retreat, but he forced his legs to keep moving.

Working up his vocal chords, Double-D licked his dry lips and attempted to speak. What came out of his mouth was nothing short of a whimper. 'H-Hello?' he squeaked. 'Is there anybody out here?'

Of course, nothing responded.

Double-D shook his head, the last of his courage petering out and leaving him with a pounding feeling in the pit of his stomach. _This was a terrible idea,_ he thought. _I should head back inside before anything else happens out here –_

Then he heard it: a low rumbling noise – softly at first – but it soon ricocheted into what Double-D thought was the sound of a car starting up. By now he felt like his heart was about to explode out of his chest and this was more than enough to make his legs twist and turn back in the direction he came from.

What met Double-D's eyes next almost made his jaw drop. He didn't know how it had done it while his back was turned, but something had managed to sneak up behind him.

And it was blocking the only entrance to his house.

He'd seen this creature countless of times: in movies, television, books and other media, and yet none of those things could've prepared him for the terror that flooded through his veins. A large canine was staring right back him, its pelt as dark as the night sky and he could see his pale face reflected twice times over in the wolf's glowing, yellow eyes.

The wolf drew its lips back and emanated a shuddering snarl. Double-D stepped back, his lungs heaving and his body completely coated in a layer of sweat. The beast stepped forward, hunching its back as it lowered its hind legs and hunched over, giving Double-D mere seconds to think of some way to escape. His eyes darted around frantically, and eventually focussed on a gap in the fences where the gate to his yard used to be. He didn't turn his back on it just yet – he dared not to think what would happen to him if he did – and slowly extended his arm so that he could feel for the edges of the fence. The wolf's lips drew back even further, ropes of glass-like spit dangled from its sabre-like teeth, swinging back and forth precariously as the wolf tensed its muscular legs.

At last the rough sensation of wood touched Double-D's fingers and this was his cue to run. Quick as a whip, he bolted into the lane faster than a greyhound chasing a rabbit without a second thought. The wolf wasn't far behind – he could hear the sounds of its paws striking against the earth. 'I've got to shout!' Double-D wheezed between gasps of air. 'Got to get help!' but every breath he took for his vocal chords merely went into fuelling his reddening, sticky body. There was a musical clash of trashcans being upturned behind him followed by more rasping barks, and a horrible feeling struck Double-D's heart: That if he didn't come across someone soon, then he was going to be in deeper trouble than he already was.

. . .

Gamma hesitated, her hand hovering over the shiny window latch. She reached over her back with her free hand and tugged at the back of her braces for the third time that evening. The last thing she needed was for the buckles to come undone, after all (not to mention the lie she'd have to come up with to keep Damien from knowing why they broke in the first place!). She bit her lip and pulled the latch upwards, readying her twitching legs. She surveyed over the edge of the sill and almost smiled – Damien hadn't taken the table apart just yet, and he'd left it in the convenient position underneath the window, too. It would be a short jump, but Gamma thought she could handle it without completely destroying the table.

She pulled her body out and suddenly found herself hanging onto the sill with her legs about two feet above the table. There was an extension of the house to her left where the kitchen was, and thankfully the builders had made the roof flat and square, so she reached over and clung to the edges. Now she was at least a foot above the table, and this seemed good enough to Gamma. She let go of the roof and landed on top of the table with a soft thud. She took in a deep gulp of fresh air, silently thanked her light bones for not breaking the table, and placed her hands on her sides. This was it; this was the world she'd been told so much about, and now she was finally able to see it in all its glory.

She got down from the table and approached the fence at the back of the garden, taking extra care not to make a sound as she climbed over and perched on the top. There wasn't much to see – just an alleyway riddled with trash cans and the like – but Gamma wasn't too surprised by this. It was the main roads she was interested in anyway.

Suddenly there was an almighty crash not too far from where she was sitting. She let out a small yelp and toppled over, barely managing to stop herself from landing face first into the dirt below. While she didn't land on her stomach, she did end up tumbling onto her back, staring up into the bright full moon overhead. She barely had any time to register the quick pitter-patter of footsteps before something jabbed at her ribcage. 'Oh my!' a voice above her squawked. This was followed by the sight of a figure flying across her line of vision, then landing against the ground with a sharp 'Oof!'

Gamma winced, breathing through her teeth, and placed a hand on her ribcage, rubbing it gently. 'What the _hell_?' she hissed quietly and heaved her back so that she could get a good look at the person who'd tripped over her. What met her eyes was a boy about her age dressed in a bed robe of some sort. She gritted her teeth and twisted her mouth into a frown. 'Watch where you're going, buddy!' she spat. 'You could've broken my ribs!'

The boy grunted and rolled over, giving Gamma a chance to take in the boy's face. He certainly wasn't anything special, but there was a gleam of youth in his complexion. Though the one thing she couldn't understand was why he was wearing a ski cap on a mild evening like this. His eyes locked with hers', wide and shimmery. 'I'm so sorry!' he scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off. 'I didn't know there was anybody else here –'

He didn't get the chance to finish whatever he was trying to say. A rumbling sound made the hairs on the back of Gamma's neck rise. She slowly stood up and turned to come face-to-face with a pair of glowing eyes that almost pierced straight into the back of her head. Her anger faded almost instantly and a tiny squeak from deep within her throat clamoured through her open mouth.

'Back away slowly,' the boy whispered to her. 'Don't make any sudden movements.'

Gamma wanted to glance back to make sure that the boy was still behind her, but she found that her head was frozen in place, locked in a staring contest with a wolf. One of her legs jerked backwards and the wolf's snarls strengthened, sending shivers down her spine. 'What should we do?' she spoke between her teeth. 'Should we run?'

'I don't know,' the boy hissed back. 'Just keep still –' All of a sudden a bird of some kind flung up from the trees, producing a harsh cackling caw. The wolf flung itself in the direction of the noise and Gamma felt the boy tugging at her arm lightly. 'Come on!'

Gamma had never bolted quicker in her life. She had overtaken the boy within seconds and found herself having to check over her shoulders to see if her companion was keeping up. The wolf wasn't far behind – she could see its eyes bobbing up and down as it tailed them. 'What do we do now?!' she called back between gulps of air.

Her new companion bit his lip, and Gamma could just make out that there was a large gap where one of his front teeth should've been. He never had time to register the large rock in his path, and he was sent tumbling to the ground for a second time when his foot struck it. 'Aagh!' he screamed. Gamma skidded to a halt and only had mere seconds to back away before the wolf was upon the boy.

In due time, Gamma would come to learn that at that moment her thoughts had switched off, that instinct now ruled over her actions. And that what felt like hours, were in fact nothing more than a handful of milliseconds. She did not register the boy's shrieks of terror, nor did she think about how the wolf was about to take a chunk out of his leg. Instead, she ran towards a nearby trashcan and, luckily enough, pulled out the hilt of a golf club that had been thrown away by some person just hours ago.

There was another scream, but this one was enough to make Gamma's blood run cold. The wolf had latched its long teeth into the flesh just below the boy's kneecap. The boy's face was paler than that of a ghost's and he was shaking his head rapidly, his mouth open as wide as it could extend. Gamma lifted the golf club above her head, finding that the middle of the staff had been dented at an awkward angle. 'Hey, ugly!' she shouted. The wolf let go of the boy's leg and shot her a ferocious growl. Gamma tensed her arms. 'Come on, then!' she jeered. 'Come and get some!'

The wolf roared and leapt for her, leaving only a hair's with of distance to swing the club. While it was a direct hit, coming down against the wolf's left eye, it wasn't enough to halt it in its tracks. Gamma's stomach churned as she heard the wolf yelp, followed by a sick, squishing noise. The wolf staggered to its left, then howled one last time before leaping over the fence, charging back into the woods from whence Gamma presumed it came.

The silence that followed was neither comforting nor relieving, in fact it only made Gamma's heart pound faster. She felt her trembling body up for a minute, and to her relief she'd come out of the whole ordeal all right (physically, at least). 'A… hah…' the boy mumbled. He was propping his back up by pressing the palm of his right hand against the ground; the other was firmly placed against his leg. Fresh blood wormed its way through his fingers and coated them in thick, sticky trails of red liquid.

Gamma threw the golf club aside and knelt down, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. The wolf hadn't bitten him all that hard, but it had obviously been enough to puncture the flesh. She dreaded to think what would've happened if it had bitten down harder. 'That looks nasty.'

The boy tilted his head to her hand. 'I'm just glad –' he winced through his teeth. 'I'm just glad that it didn't end up killing me.'

Gamma offered her shoulder. 'Where do you live?'

'At the edge of the cul-de-sac,' the boy replied as he used her to support his bitten leg. 'Just beyond the cream house.' They slowly made their way through the remains of the battlefield, taking extra care to avoid stepping in any overturned garbage, and it didn't take long to find the house in question. 'I could probably walk the rest of the way,' the boy said when the open gap in the fence finally met his line of sight. 'Thank you for your help.'

Gamma rubbed the back of her neck. 'It's no problem,' she said. Half of her expected the wolf to jump over the fence at any moment, the other just wanted to go to bed. 'Are all neighbourhoods like this?' she thought aloud.

She hadn't realised the mistake she'd made until it was too late to take her words back. The boy frowned lightly, lifting his right cheek. 'Err… no, of course not!' he said. 'Are you new? I don't think I've ever seen your face around here before.'

At that moment all of Gamma's confidence vanished. She stepped back and raised her hands against her chest. 'N-Never mind what I said,' she mumbled. The boy opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off. 'I guess I'll see you around!'

With that, she scurried over to the fence leading to her yard and climbed over it, not even giving the boy a chance to say goodbye, swiftly regretting ever jumping out of the window in the first place.

. . .

Moisturizing Lotion. Jimmy needed some.

And he needed some _now_.

He stepped back from his work and rubbed his palms together. They felt dry and powdery, a feeling that always made Jimmy cringe, and he darted towards his dresser like a madman. It didn't take long to fish out his favourite ( _Vanilla and Raspberry Twist_ was printed on the bottle in proud, pink, elegant cursive lettering) and soon his hands felt as fresh as a rose bud bursting into bloom. 'Now, then,' he said to himself. 'Where was I?'

He returned to his desk, surveying the pencils lined up in front of him. He reached for the one covered in kittens and eyed it, twisting the stick with his index finger and his thumb. Yes, they were cute, but if he recalled correctly he'd started the first day of school with them last year, so they were out of the question. Then he went for the one with butterflies on it. Jimmy rolled his eyes at the awful shade of lime green and how it clashed with the neon pink insects. Certainly not – there was no way he was going to school with clashing stationery.

But when little Jimmy turned his attention to the final pencil, he misjudged his twitching hands. All it took was a single nudge, sending the pencil rolling across the table and tumbling off the edge. Jimmy clenched his fists. 'Oh, phooey!' he grumbled. 'And it went under the bed, too!'

Thankfully he was a tidy boy and had enough room to spread all his belongings about. So the underbelly of the bed had been relatively untouched. He fell to his knees and leaned forward, just making out the brown bird pattern plastered all over the pencil. He breathed a sigh of relief – it was within his reach, and he wouldn't have to worry about strained muscles. But as he wrapped his fingers around the small, wooden stick, something else caught his attention: a long, flat rectangular sheet of paper.

Jimmy hesitated. It wasn't too far from where the pencil landed, and his arm was more than long enough to fish it from underneath the bed. He pulled the pencil out first, placed it back on the table for safekeeping, and turned his attention to the paper. He inched his hand towards it, palm shuffling against the sunflower-yellow carpet, closer and closer until –

There was a sudden flash and a sharp crackling noise. 'Ah!' Jimmy withdrew his hand sharply, panting heavily. He quickly regained his composure and peered under the bed again, the acrid smell of burnt paper smothering his nostrils. He bit his lip as he attempted to grab the paper once more, and this time he was completely successful. The waxy texture indicated that this particular scrap wasn't from one of his drawings; in fact it actually felt more like the sort of material used to make cards.

He turned the card over and noted that one of the corners had been burnt away. Jimmy sighed and sat down on the bed, tapping his retainer. The sooner he got a replacement for it, the better off he'd be, and the last thing in the world he wanted was to electrocute someone he cared about – like Sarah. Being able to use electricity was so difficult – he'd ended up inheriting them from his mother, and thankfully she'd been wise enough to teach Jimmy not to abuse them. He wasn't quite sure why his family were able to do such things, but what he did know was how his mother avoided being exploited for them.

He recalled his mother's words fondly – she'd been baking cookies that day, and when she'd finally gotten tem in the oven she'd sat down and told him what happened. _'I ended up being found by a group set up for people like us,'_ she'd said. _'They helped me settle here, and I've lived here ever since.'_ The name of the group, however, always slipped his mind. He'd only been about six or seven when his mother told him her story, so being unable to remember details really didn't surprise him…

The crackling sound of static reached Jimmy's ears. He looked down at his free hand and realised that there were white sparks running up and down his forearm. He scowled slightly. Deciding what pencils he was going to use this year could wait – he wasn't going to be around for the first week of school anyway. He suddenly yawned and rubbed his eyes, it was getting very late, and he'd have to get up fairly early for his retainer appointment. He set the card down on the table next to the pencils and then switched off the lights so that he could get changed for bed. And before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep, cradled by his mattress and his blankets.


End file.
